Out Of Time
by AmethystB
Summary: {One-shot} The person on the other end of the phone began to speak but I hardly heard her; my eyes were focused on Jordan, though I should know better than to ignore Devan Maguire...DWJ


**A/N: **Ok...this was a challenge made by a friend of mine. It was to recreate the ending of "Intruded", so I did...and I kinda ended it up a Devan/Woody fic without any intention to make it so. I know this may spoil the actual episode and in my opinion it ended nicely as it is, but I wanted to experiment with this and I actually liked the way it turned out. Flamers can 'yell' in capitols and abuse me for writing this, but they'll never hurt me.

Defences aside, I have to say this is my first Crossing Jordan fanfiction...ever for me, so please be nice :) And I don't own the show in case anyone wants to sue me.

* * *

**Out Of Time**

Her apartment was how I remembered it to be, with maybe just a few minor adjustments newly added. Everything seemed unusually clean, and the smell of vanilla perfume still lingered in the air slightly. She looked at me expectantly and I almost forgot what she had asked me. What was it? Would I like to stay for a while? She had no idea just how much I wanted to, though I silently knew that wasn't going to happen. If we were going to do this at all, we should take it slow. That way we wouldn't ruin our...unique friendship if one of us backed out.

"I think we should..." I began to say, but at that second, my phone started ringing.

I apologised quickly before reaching for it inside of my jacket. I knew who it was before I even answered it. "Hey."

Jordan raised her eyebrows at my casual greeting to the phone and at once she seemed to know who it was. She then turned around respectively and walked over to her dressing table before setting the locket into its box carefully.

The person on the other end of the phone began to speak but I hardly heard her; my eyes were focused on Jordan, though I should know better than to ignore Devan Maguire. When I didn't respond to her question, Devan firmly said my name and she had my attention at last.

"Sorry, I was distracted. What did you ask?" I inquired casually.

Her voice sounded on the other end. "Did you pick up those files I left for you on my desk this morning?"

Immediately my hand flew to my head and I cringed. "No, I forgot. Sorry. Listen, I'll come back now and pick them up. Is that ok?"

She gave a quick reply and I tersely closed my phone over. Jordan looked up innocently from her dressing table, pretending not to know anything, when in fact she knew I would not be staying. She tried to hide her disappointment but failed miserably.

I slipped my phone back into the inner pocket of my jacket and apologised solemnly. "Devan left some reports for me back at the morgue and I forgot to pick them up this morning."

She nodded and stepped towards the door, opening it slowly. "So...I guess you won't be staying then."

I shook my head and stepped outside the crimson door. "Sorry." After a moment of awkward silence, I held up my hand. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

She waved goodbye quickly before giving a short smile. "Yeah, I'll see you."

It was strange. It was only a couple of nights ago that we had been doing this same thing, this kind of dance where we didn't know exactly what to do. So I did the only thing I knew; I walked away. With my back turned to her, I could hear Jordan close the door and it echoed eerily for a second before blocking out the sounds behind it.

* * *

Driving in my car felt like something I'd never done before. The radio played softly and I could barely hear the words to the current song, but I didn't really need to. The song went along the lines of "since I fell for you" and I'd actually lived through half of what it was about. Loving wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, and I simply couldn't really handle it anymore. Intimately loving someone was different than loving someone in a friendly way and it was more challenging, too. Never had I come across a roadblock in my life, until now. And I didn't know how to drive around it. She obviously couldn't commit any more than I could, but it was almost like she didn't even want to try. I knew I had to give her time, but what about me? Do I wait forever, or move on? 

Turning a familiar corner I noticed a couple of houses without lights on. This made me wonder exactly how late it was and, glancing quickly to catch the time on the dashboard clock, I was alarmed to find out it was past eleven already. Why had Devan called me so late when she knew she'd see me tomorrow anyway? I shook my head and concentrated on driving. I'd never understand the intricacies of the female mind.

Pulling into the small car park reserved for the morgue, I flicked the keys from the ignition and stepped out of my car. The night air was refreshing but it was far from comforting as I found myself thinking once again about Jordan. She had captured my attention the first day we met, and now, three years later, she still had it, though it was drifting away slightly and I could feel our strong connection fading. I wasn't sure, but something told me Devan played a part in that.

And there she was, inside Macy's office when I walked into the building's swinging doors. He was talking to her seriously while holding out a bunch of papers. She was nodding occasionally, her blonde curls bouncing slightly with her movement. I wondered fleetingly what they were talking about, but thought better and ventured into Devan's small office. Her computer screen was flashing something but I ignored it and dug through the papers placed neatly on her desk. She was organised, I'd give her that. But where were the files she had left for me?

"Looking for these?"

I started slightly at her voice and turned around, gingerly moving my hands away from her desk. She held out a manila folder with the words "Case File 12", and I nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

She moved forward with one hand on her hip, and the other holding the folder out to me. I took it carefully and watched her walk around me to lean against her desk. She had her hair out, spilling over her shoulders until it reached the bottom of her neck. She was wearing a plain red halter top with navy jeans that rested on her waist.

"I hate working late," she looked down to her desk and lifted up a stray paper, reading it fleetingly before putting it down and looking back up at me. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

I shook my head reassuringly, though in truth she had. "No, I was just relaxing at home when you called. Usual night for me."

She lifted her head and smirked. "Right."

I stared at the way her lips tugged downwards, and I couldn't help smiling back. "What? Ok, I have no life!"

She laughed slightly and I realised I loved the way she tilted her head back. Jordan never did that. "Quite the pessimist, aren't you," she joked.

I shrugged. "Well, considering my profession..."

She just looked at me, smiling slightly in the fading light of her desk lamp. The light shone on only half of her face, the other half was in almost complete darkness. Still, I could see the way her eyes studied my expression, the way her lips pushed out in a slight pout, the way her hair perfectly framed her face...everything was clear to me. Every expression she gave told me what she wanted to convey. She was so open...so simple. So unlike Jordan.

Jordan was always closed off, and rarely showed her true emotions. Nothing about Jordan accentuated her needs because she never let me know what they were. One day she'd want comfort and friendship, the next she'd just brush me off and completely close herself to me. That was one thing I couldn't stand about Jordan: her moods. Sure, they were intriguing in the best of times, but when I wanted to make something out of our relationship she would just become defensive But that was what Jordan did, she ran whenever she felt afraid of something, particularly love. Jordan was always just out of reach, and even before when she had invited me to stay, I knew that invitation wouldn't be open for long. It was closed soon after, just like Jordan herself.

Devan was open, like a picture book. I could see all of her pages and she wasn't afraid to let me see. She was in front of me, not behind me. And she knew she would always be one step ahead of me because she was so calculated.

She snapped out of her reverie and looked over her shoulder at Garret's office. The older man was still in there, writing some notes on a piece of paper. Devan looked back at me and caught me staring.

"You know, Woody," she quipped, "you could just take a picture."

I looked into her eyes, unafraid. "Where's the fun in that?"

She gave me another look before turning back to her desk and picking up another paper, reading it more carefully than the last. "So, what have you been working on lately?"

Her question stunned me, mainly because rarely anyone asked me that. "Ah...just a strange murder case where the victim is a two-timing husband. Serves him right."

She nodded and was about to make a sly remark when Garret poked his head through the office door, face searching for Devan's.

"I'm heading off, so you're right here?" He then noticed me. "Hey, Woody."

"Garret," I replied without much conviction.

Devan shifted her weight from the desk and straightened to face Macy. "Yeah. Sidney's still here, isn't he?"

Garret nodded. "Working on something in autopsy two. See you both tomorrow."

Devan and I both said goodnight in unison and after a smirk, Macy left the office and walked down the hall. We were left alone once again.

"I've got the morgue for another two hours," Devan almost whispered it seemed to herself.

"Need company," I offered slyly.

She leant back heavily against her desk and looked up at me. "Sure you don't need to be anywhere...?"

When would she give up? "Unless you don't want company," I began, but her eyes slightly widened, almost scared to give up this opportunity.

"No," she cut in, "you can help me with some of this work."

I knew she was teasing and I liked it. She was intriguing, and I wanted to know her more. There was something slightly eerie about the way she read me; she could almost understand exactly what I was thinking and feeling...it was enchanting. Giving up a night with Jordan was a sacrifice and I admit was almost stupid. But a friendship was better than a meaningless intimate relationship, and it was much too valuable to lose in a second.

The truth was Jordan and I were out of time. We had come the full circle and now we were back to the beginning, and that suited me just fine. Maybe being with someone else would be a new start for me, and a better journey.

Devan looked up again from her desk, her eyes searching my face. "Do you like Chinese?"

I grinned mischievously. Oh yeah, Jordan and I were definitely out of time.


End file.
